On Holiday
by Tigerwalk
Summary: Rick and Michonne take a vacation from the end of the world. One shot.


A/N: Hey everyone! I know I have promised a DBD update and a Game Changer epilogue but I also had this little one shot kicking around and I was suddenly inspired to finish it. Nattah, if you're out there, here is your horse fic xoxoxo

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It was a mutual idea. Most of their ideas were mutual, she just tended to verbalize them sooner. So when Michonne had suggested taking their horses to what was left of the Oceanside to scavenge, just the two of them, he just happened to already have the most scenic route mapped out in his head.

It took an afternoon to get there by horseback, but these days they had an afternoon to spare. It also required a babysitter and, having been a mutual idea, Rick had already arranged for Judith to stay with Gabriel.

All of the logistics worked out, they had set out just as the sun began to burn in the sky, with a good night's sleep at their backs and a satchel full of food at their side.

It was September, late, as far as they could tell by the way the air bit their cheeks in the early part of the ride, and painted them with a light mist of sweat by the end of it.

Michonne's horse was knee-deep in the waves now, cooling them both by kicking up the salty water as he trotted. She circled back around to where Rick was, a bright smile rounding her cheeks and crinkling her nose.

Rick's horse was older, more interested in grazing after a long ride, and he sat atop of the stationary animal watching her. "Couple more months and you won't be able to do this anymore."

She tutted at him as if to say "watch me", but she didn't mean it. It could hardly be considered a sacrifice when the payoff was so perfect.

When her horse had worn them both out, they gave both animals a long rope, and found some shade under a tipsy palm. Fresh bread, tomatoes, an egg—their meal was meager by old world standards, but it provided essential nutrients and for that they were grateful.

The sun was smeared across the sky; orange and yellow and deep, sapphire blue, and in the distance they heard the whinnies of a few of their companions' wilder relatives.

"We should catch them," she said, but he knew she wasn't really up for it.

"Not today." His hand settled on her belly, swollen only enough that they would notice. "You want to pick a room?"

The cabins were outdated and unkempt, but a vacation was a vacation. She picked a smaller one, with just enough room for a bed, covered in minty green leaves and horrible pink hibiscus flowers. The wicker furniture was meant to have a tropical feel, but salty air and general disuse had turned it into a nest of sorts for animals and insects.

After clearing the drawers of anything left alive, and the surrounding area of anything dead, they secured the door. The horses, having already been put to bed for the night, quietly murmured outside of the window and it mixed with the rhythmic lapping of the waves in a low hum of white noise.

Michonne emptied her bag onto the little table beside the bed—a deck of cards, water, some seaglass she'd found—then shimmied between the bed and the wall to wipe a circle into the dust covered mirror. She untied her head band, then used it to gather her locs behind her head.

Stretched out on the mattress, his boots and clothes already discarded into a heap with their luggage, he watched her. "What are you doing?"

She turned after a few more moments at work and tipped her head, letting a loc fall in front of her eyes. She'd fastened a shell to her hair; a little white cowrie she'd picked up earlier. "A souvenir," she said.

"Too bad we couldn't get one of those airbrushed t-shirts."

"I made it to the end of the world and all I got was this stupid t-shirt." She laughed, snorting a little. The sound hit him right in the chest.

"We got a whole lot more than that."

She lifted her tank top over her head, her hand falling instinctively to her tummy. "That we did."

"So what now?" Rick opened his arms to receive her as she crawled across the dusty mattress to where he lie. "Night's still young."

Her head was buried in his neck and all she managed was a hum in response.

"I was thinking we could tell Judith about the baby when we get home," he said. "She was mad she couldn't come on this trip. Maybe that will make up for it." He fingered the little shell as her breathing slowed. "We can bring her a couple of these, too. Just in case."

She nodded. "That's a great idea. Doctor Carson said we're safe to start telling people and Judith should be the first."

"She'll take care of telling everyone else."

"Probably." She tipped her head until her lips were pressed against his throat, and he let out a low growl. The first twelve or so weeks hadn't been easy on her. She'd been sick and exhausted and preoccupied with hiding it from everyone. Today was the first time he'd seen her have some of her energy back and he might have allowed himself to hope she'd be feeling up to other activities as well.

He moved his hand down her back until he had a handful of her ass, and her tongue slipped from her lips in response, wetting his skin.

"You feeling okay?"

"I'm fine." She threw her leg over his, and slid onto his chest. "And I didn't come on this luxurious tropical vacation to play cards."

He chuckled, capturing her mouth with a little more enthusiasm. When she rolled them over, he tugged at her bottom lip with his teeth, but kept his weight safely propped on his elbows.

"Are you going to be careful with me now, Sheriff?"

He dipped his head and brushed his lips across her collarbone, his hand cupped protectively over her belly. "Yup and you're gonna have to accept it."

"I knew you had a gentle side. Underneath all this."

He paused at her breast, wondering just how deeply buried that side of him was. He remembered what he was like when Carl was a baby-changing diapers and singing lullabies. Then with Judith—the things he'd had to do. It was hard to reconcile those two men. What would Carl have been like if he was raised by the man he was now? What would Judith be; and this little one? It gnawed at him, that question.

"Hey," she said, tipping his chin until their eyes met. "I wouldn't make this choice with anyone else. Not in this world. I wouldn't."

He knew that was true. She knew better, so did the man he was now. That's why they were alive. This baby would survive by being just as brutal, but he or she would know joy too. Because if he could, anyone could.

"Me either," he said.

"So be careful then," she said. "But don't make me wait any more."

…

They woke to the same color sky that they'd fallen asleep to, this time glowing from behind a gathering grey. Rick was still rubbing the sleep from his eyes when she began to get dressed.

"We should head out," she said. "Don't want to get caught in a storm."

He propped his head on his hand and smiled. "Or we could stay longer. Finally get to that card game."

"They'll send someone to look for us. We told them where we were going."

"I guess that's the downside of not having cell phones anymore."

She slid her hand across the dresser, pushing the rest of the little shells she'd gathered into her bag. "That's one of them."

Rick got out of bed and found his jeans, stepping into them slowly so she wouldn't be confused about how much he didn't want to. "I don't know," he said. "It's kind of a perk of this world, I think. Not being reachable all the time."

"Except right now we could just call up Gabriel and tell him we're moving here for good. We're beach people now. Send Judith and our bathing suits, we'll let you know when the baby is born."

Rick didn't laugh, he just shrugged. "We could."

"Could what?"

"Get Judith and come back here for good. Just our family, living off the land. I'll teach Judith how to fish and you can put shells in her hair." _He could change diapers and sing lullabies._ He gestured to the dingy, musty old cottage. "Just say the word and this will all be yours."

She laughed again and slung her pack over her shoulder, then she came to meet him at the foot of the bed and kissed him. "It's tempting, Grimes. But community is important. It's what we fought for. And running water. Running water is important." She ran her hand over the stubble on his chin. "Besides, if we lived here everyday, where would we vacation?"

"All right," he said, a little ache settling in his chest as the bubble burst. He finished dressing then took her bag from her. "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

"Let's go home and tell everyone we're adding another Grimes to the community."


End file.
